Fogged Vision
by Astro1mac
Summary: Han is a mystery man. Silent as a grave, and solid as a tombstone. But all jinchuuriki were born into tragedy. Han is no exception. A look into the life and times of Han, from birth to death. The man under the armor, in all the heartache and joy his life entails.
1. Prologue

**AN: So. This is my first fanfic on this site, and in general really. But I was thinking about Han, my favorite Naruto character from a design perspective, and just how little background he and some of the other jinchuuriki get. So this is my attempt at a Han-centric story purely focusing on Han. Maybe later I'll do the same for some of the other less detailed jinchuuriki, if I think it's necessary. But the lack of Han fics kind of inspired me to do this. **

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><p>Han was born different. He was similar to a normal child, he was. When he was born, he cried and shrieked as if his body was on fire, as newborns tend to do. But when the Gobi was sealed into him, in a dank, seal covered cave beneath the Tsuchikage Complex, Han stopped crying. There was a hush to the air, a quiet anticipation. For an instant, the seal masters and nurse maids believed him dead, at the age of an hour. But rather, Han was asleep.<p>

_Hmmmm..._

Han shifted in his slumber.

_Once again, my pride is affronted, and my dignity disparaged. _

A wrinkle in the boy's face. The nursemaids sigh a bit in relief. A jinchuuriki twisted by its biju was not a good sign. They would take whatever normalcy they could get.

_To pass me off as if I was naught but a unwanted wedding gift... These Iwa jailers are irritating at best._

The child tosses and turns in its sleep, the dignified baritone hovering at the peripheral of his conscious.

_Regardless, my only option is to make this vessel into a worthy warrior. Worthy of wielding my power at least._

The child wakes up, and immediately takes a dump.

_For now, I... Wait. _The voice of a prisoner among generations braces himself for another terrible beginning of watching his new vessel be potty trained.

_Surely, this is at least... A little beneath me... At least a little, Kami-sama?!_

Meanwhile, In the Tsuchikage office,

"So the Gobi was transferred easily? No problems?" The Tsuchikage growled out. While perpetually short, his back stood straight, not yet weakened by his age and gravity. Regardless, a wizened face, set in a scowl, and the gray facial hair already dominating his face, radiated authority and ill temper. A harried assistant stood nearby, nodding quickly in the face of his kage's frustration.

"Ah, yes sir. Everything is taken care of, the sealing went flawlessly. Some of the nursemaids have... Concerns though" The assistant hesitated at the end, already knowing his kage's reaction to the complaints.

"Oh? And what would those be?" He ground out. Onoki was in no mood for more bad news.

"Er, it seems the child is 'unnaturally quiet'. The caretakers wish to be switched out before it kills them, as they fear the Gobi might be in control." The assistant reads off. Onoki ground his teeth.

"Is this all the caretakers, or a select few?" He hissed through gritted teeth.

"Ah, well, it seems to be a few junior workers and one or two who generally get the word 'bitch' included in their patient reviews." The last detail made the assistant chuckle a bit, before remembering just how much paperwork all of this involves. An invisible tension disappeared from the Tsuchikage's back, accompanied by a low chuckle of his own.

"Fine then. Get rid of them, have the junior members lectured by a senior member who held their ground, and dock the irritating one's pay. Iwa has no use for cowards, even as nursemaids." The assistant smiled to himself and moved down on the list.

"Alright. The only remaining problem seems to be the child's parents. They uh, seem to want to give him up for adoption." Onoki let out a long suffering sigh.

"Unpleasant, but unsurprising nonetheless. Arrange for him to be placed in the Iwa local orphanage. But be careful, dammit. Lord knows all the other villages are out to get us. The Gobi and Yonbi are our deterrent. Without them, we would be overrun, of that I have no doubt." Onoki grumbled to himself. Then something occurred to him. "On that note, give me a progress report on Roshi. Just because we have a new Gobi container doesn't mean we can forget our resident monkey." Even with the birth of Han, Iwa's trials continue on.

Han was... Intense. That was the best word the caretakers could use to describe him. He was not intense in happiness, sadness or even anger. Not day to day at least. No, Han was intensely focused, on everything. If a gaze or glare had impact, his would be that of a freight train. There was nothing but conviction in his eyes, a one track unstoppable force. Even if, at one year of age, his opponent was vegetables. Resolutely, Han shook his head.

"Han, eat your food, RIGHT NOW." But if Han's gaze was a train, the orphanage matron's was that of a nuclear warhead. Han ate his vegetables.

At two years old, Han could toddle around like any other child. But despite his intensity, or perhaps because of it, he did not notice he was different. The other orphans don't notice anything of influence, but there's always an adult sneaking fearful glances, or whispering to the one next to him. And the looks of disdain are always there. The contempt he sees around him is impossible to notice, but the young mind of Han attributes it to his family-less status. But he doesn't care. The other orphans play with him, and the matron treats him like all the other children. Although, she treats all the children like pack mules, albeit pack mules she loves.

Iwa's orphanage was rather shoddy, if well taken care of. Paint peeled regularly, and there was quite a bit of ominous creaking in the building. But Han had never lived anywhere else, and was hardly at the age where he could comprehend things like class differences or budget cuts. After all, he could barely speak using verbs and nouns in conjunction, if at all. So sitting at the great table in the main hall, where all the other orphans eat, Han was perfectly content among the noise and chaos. Chewing on toughened bread and swallowing cheap, mass produced soup, Han ate with quiet contemplation. There had been another adoption meeting today, where orphans had been lined up in their best kimonos and yukatas, which wasn't altogether impressive, and had the dirt and grime rubbed from their faces. Han disliked going to such meetings. The orphanage was his home, why would he leave? He was treated well here. Besides, all the people who come to adopt look at him funny. If that's what parents are like, Han decided, he didn't want one. Or two, for that matter. Or one set? How many parents do people have anyway?!

"A-ah, Han-kun?" He was interrupted from his musings on the exact contents of a familial system with the arrival of one of the more skittish workers. With glasses falling precariously on her nose, and a hand worrying at her braid, the young woman leaned down to his eye level and looked with concern at him.

"A-ano, you were staring a-at the wall really hard. A-are you alright?" Her eyes shined with concern, and not for the first time. When he gets lost in thought, his stare intensifies as his focus does. Usually, this leads people to believe something is troubling him. Han shook his head.

"Just thinking. Thank you for your concern, Aria-San." Aria's face relaxed a bit, and she smiled wide.

"O-oh no, it's fine! Please, go back to eating, Han-kun. I didn't mean to disturb you." She smiles again and walks back to the kitchen. Han goes back to eating, leaving his confusing thoughts on parents behind him. Besides Aria, a lot of the staff doesn't like him. There are others like Aria, but not too many. It doesn't matter to him though. All those people are in different wings or generally uninvolved in his life. There are a lot of orphans left over from the last shinobi war, after all. But overall, despite the constant looks and whispers he gets, the next few years are fairly normal for him. Three, four, five, six years old, and this is around when Han notices the other children begin to shy away from him, understanding what he is from some of the older children. Han grew up as well though. Like all the other orphans, Han wore dirty, but traditional style robes. That's where the similarities end. Towering above the other children by a head at least, he gives the appearance of a type of monolith. Intense gaze, features strong and sharp. His mouth set in a permanent line, never twitching or frowning. Everywhere he went, he kept his _sugegasa _perched atop his head. And at the age of six, still young and content, Han learns what it is to truly hate.

He and the other children were, excluding Han who was more mildly curious than anything, excited. Today, all the orphans were going on a field trip. Some age groups were going to different areas, but they were all going to somewhere interesting. Apparently, his group was going to the stone monument. It sounded a bit boring to Han, but the rest of the kids wanted to go somewhere, anywhere really, so much that the destination didn't matter to them. As they approached however, the matron received a letter from the orphanage.

"Ugh! There is a new child being transferred to the orphanage right now! Stupid, idiotic, bureaucratic, ugh... Aria, I need to leave you in charge. The new child is a baby, so someone needs to be there to get it settled, and I won't be able to get to any nursemaids in time. Can you handle the kids for me?" Aria nodded frantically as the matron listed off instructions. "And Han! Help Aria take care of the kids. We all know you're the most mature of these little hooligans, so you're an assistant for Aria here, got it?" Han nods just as frantically. He's spent one too many times in time out to consider blowing off the matron.

As the tour guide talks animatedly about the monument, which doesn't look half as interesting as the tour guide seems to ink it is, Han tunes the man out and focuses his energy on glaring at any of the kids who seem to be getting any funny ideas. Half of them nearly pee themselves. As Han's vision wanders, he starts as he notices a large plume of smoke in a corner of the village. And suddenly he's running past Aria, past the kids, past the irritatingly chipper tour guide, towards that smoke. Because that's where the orphanage is.

After five minutes of sprinting, Han finds the orphanage with smoke pouring out the windows. Flames lick the air through some of the windows. The creaking sound is there, echoing like the mournful howl of some great beast. Han takes a step back, shuddering a little. His home is burning. Then it all comes crashing down as he realizes the matron is in there, with the new baby. Pushing past yelling firefighters and concerned workers, Han barrels through the door and races up the stairs to where the newborn wing is located. One, two, three flights of stairs. And in the smoke filled hallway, lies the matron against a wall, holding a crying child in her arms. On her forehead, a slow trickle of blood travels down, the debris littering the cradle room behind her showing no doubt as to the cause. Her eyes blink wearily as Han runs to her.

"H-Han? Han, take the child! Take her and run!" The matron yells, shoving the child into Han's arms before he can say a word. Han ignores her and grabs her arm, throwing it over his shoulder. As he rises, he strains himself to lift her alongside him. "Han, ignore me and take the-" a bout of heavy coughing drowns out her words as her eyes water. Han ignores her and struggles as his eyes tear up, only partly from the smoke. And he knows, deep down, that he can't do it. That he's small and weak, and the smoke is choking him, and that he can't save her. But he doesn't care. With all the stubbornness of a six year old, he rejects that truth and focuses his entire being on pulling the matron along. And somewhere, a beast cracks an eye open, and nods in approval.

Suddenly, Han feels like he's burning alive, like his blood is boiling in his veins, but that doesn't matter because he's STRONG. The matron and the child are in his arms, and he's leaping down the stairs and he's running through the main hall, and he's out the back, and they're laying in the grass, and she's gripping his hand and she's calling his name,

"Thank you, Han."

and she's coughing and he's asking her not to go, and she's not breathing and the baby is crying but it's alive, and there's a man in rich man clothes there, and he has gasoline in his hand, and the burning is different now, because it's RAGING, and he's next to the man, and the man's afraid, he's saying it wasn't supposed to happen, and the man's broken now, and his hands are covered in blood, and the man is bleeding too, but Han doesn't hurt, doesn't scream like he does, he's-

"Ah, sir? The, uh, the Gobi container killed someone, sir."

"Humph. Well, I suppose I'll go do damage control. Little whelps, interrupting their Tsuchikage's paperwork... Well?! Let's go!"

"A-ah! Yes sir!"

**AN: So? Read & Review. Let me know if there's anything you think I can do to increase length without skipping around the years so much. Thanks for your time! Also...**

**Sugegasa: The type of straw hat worn by Han and the Akatsuki, although Han's isn't straw in canon, but hey, we're getting there.**


	2. Han and the Strength of Stone

**AN: Hello! Astro, you updated in three days!? You must be a writing machine! Nope, just irresponsible. Anyway, small disclaimer, since I forgot in the prologue. I own nothing. All the stuff goes to Kishimoto. Well, except any OC, like Aria or the matron. And by the way, the matron is supposed to have no name. There will probably be a small piece about it next chapter. Anyway, last chapter kind of set everything up, but this is where things get more detailed and able to create Han's motivations and what not. By the way, all the stuff in this is canon, except my interpretation of villager treatment and overall attitude. But the philosophy and what not is, in fact, canon. Honestly, Iwa is more interesting than it's portrayed, I believe. Anyway, here we go!**

Hours later, Han sat unmoving before the Stone monument, the cold step feeling unwelcoming as any stone is. The plaza was vacant at the moment; the other orphans huddled into organized shelters, the tourists safe in their hotels, the families no doubt happy in their homes. Han was alone here. Alone. How empty and true that word sounded now. Sure, Aria cared, and some of the orphans didn't hate him. But Aria was just a kind soul. She was busy at the moment taking care of all the other whiny brats. The matron had always been there for him. She had fed him his meals when he was small, and trusted him to take care of the others when necessary. She was the mother, and he was the eldest child. He had once thought wistfully, that if parents were like THAT, he wouldn't mind those adoption meetings so much… Without her presence, he felt cold. It was a little funny to the Gobi child. His home had burned, his body burned from the inside, and yet he felt so damn freezing right now. He didn't know what damn meant, but considering how the matron had used it, he felt it was appropriate.

"Have you noticed them yet?" The voice came from behind him, but it shocked Han in to sitting straight up and craning his neck almost all the way around. There was an old man, with deep facial hair and an almost totally covering robe. His gaze was anything but grandfatherly. The look in his eyes seemed to automatically dismiss him. But it wasn't arrogance, exactly. Rather, it was confidence born from experience. As if the old man knew some secret he hadn't deemed to share with the rest of the young, foolish mortals. Analysis complete, he considered his words. Whipping his head around, Han saw nothing. Turning back to the old man, he raised an eyebrow.

"Are you getting delusional in your old age, jii-san?" he griped, feeling petulant in his grief. The old man let out a tch sound and whacked him on the back of the head. Han jumped to his feet with a yelp and towered over the man. It was a testament to Han's freakish size that he stood equal to the man. Looking into Han's raging intensity, the old man's face softened, and he motioned for Han to sit again. But Han, lost in his fury, remained standing and leveled his hatred at the old man in front of him. Frowning, the man sat a hand against Han's shoulder. As Han went to brush it off, the man's grip tightened and Han sat heavily as his breath vanished from his body.

"Stay down, child. You're a hundred years too early to stare me down." Heaving out a sigh, the old man sat next to him, and simply looked out at the monument. After a long period of silence, the old man broke the quiet. "ANBU, is what I was referring too." At Han's questioning gaze the man elaborated. "They're all around here. At least ten or so. On rooftops, in alleys, probably under our feet too." The man explained, tapping his foot against the ground in emphasis. At Han's wide eyes, the man scoffed. "Come now! I was told you were intelligent for your age. As if we just allow civilians to wander around in public areas with blood all over their hands no problem! It's only because of your, unique, circumstances that you haven't been arrested yet." Looking down, Han was shocked to see the grump was correct. His hands were a dirty, rust red, covered in dried blood. Furthermore, it had splattered all over his clothes, and Han bet there was some on his face as well.

"How did I do that?" Han quietly intoned, lowering shaking hands. The old man hummed thoughtfully to himself.

"Which part? The broken legs, the arm wrenched from its socket, the bits and pieces we're calling ribs, or the crushed throat. Or you could be talking about the broken cheekbone, jawbone, or many skull fractures. Or the fact half of his brain is more like gray soup than gray matter." As the man went on, Han clenched his fists, his anger rising ever higher. When Han could take no more of his sarcasm, he snapped.

"And he deserved all of it. I wish I could do it to him all over again, so I could ENJOY it this time!" Han roared at the man. In a flash, the man rose and knocked Han to the ground. Setting his foot squarely on Han's throat, he applied the softest of pressure to show he meant business. Han stopped his struggling, and seethed at the small statured man.

"I think you need to understand what you are. You are not a shinobi. You are not some throw away avenger. You are not police. You are not any sort of justice. You have no position to say such a thing." Han burst into a rage at this.

"I have moral oblig-oblicch- I had to do the right thing! I'm a man!" Han shouted at the man. Suddenly, the foot at his throat was crushing him, and the man's eyes were alive with anger.

"NOT EVEN! YOU ARE BUT A BOY!" The old man boomed out, his voice powerful and imperious. "You know too little of life to attempt such a stance." As the foot lifted from his throat, Han looked at the man, feeling small under the focused intensity of the man. 'And people call me intense' he thought without humor. The man sighed, looking OLD all of a sudden. "For gods' sake, you couldn't even pronounce obligation." The man said with a dry chuckle. He collapsed to the stairs and ran his hand through his almost nonexistent hair. Han sat up and scooted to sit next to him. Now that he had been snapped out of his rage, the despair seemed overwhelming. And even if this jii-san seemed a bit irritating, he looked like he knew what he was talking about. And despite his "dismissive" attitude… there was no contempt in his eyes.

"I think I'll tell you some wisdom a wise man once told me. At the time, I didn't need it nearly as much as you do know, but that doesn't change the importance of the lesson. You understand" He spoke gruffly. Han nodded his assent. The man nodded his approval once. "First, look at the monument and tell me what you see." Han looked at the pool and pedestal and shrugged to himself. A pool filled with rounded stones, in the middle was a small "island" with a pedestal and a walkway leading off the pool. On top of the pedestal was a rounded stone.

"It seems… random to me. I don't see the point of it." Surprisingly, the man cackled at this.

"Well, then you're the same as I was. I had to clean it once, and was grumbling the entire time. I thought we had a cheap old man as Tsuchikage." He seemed to be lost in the memory for a second, before he turned back to Han. "Did you know Konoha has a village monument as well?" He asked with startling intensity. Han was taken aback, momentarily.

"Er, no. Haven't heard of it." Han stutters for a second, then promise to never do so again. He doesn't want to be like Aria, regardless of how nice the lady is.

"Humph. Good then. You see, the Konoha monument is actually called the Hokage Monument. It's a mountain with the faces of the Hokage engraved into it. I hear it's supposed to be so the Hokage can always watch over the village. It sounds nice, right?" He asks the boy. Han considers it for a second.

"If a Hokage could save the matron, I think I wouldn't mind a mountain with their faces on it." Han says quietly. For a time, the old man is quiet.

"Humph. I understand that. Perhaps I should introduce myself. Do you know who I am?" He asks the child next to him. Han shakes his head. He's undoubtedly a shinobi. The way he noticed the ANBU and referred to them as we showed that much. His age likely means he's a jounin at least. Chunin usually retire by that age, even if they're career chunin as some tend to be. "I'm Onoki, the Sandaime Tsuchikage." Han nods for a second, before the words process, and he shoots up like he has steel in his spine.

"N-Nani?!" 'Oh no, I'm turning into Aria with all this stuttering.' Han mentally despaired. A small smile plays on Onoki's lips.

"And do you know why you didn't recognize me? Probably because I don't have my face stuck to the side of a mountain!" Onoki chuckles. Han is still for a second before a giggle escapes his lips. Within seconds, the newborn tension is broken, and both of them are laughing loudly in the empty plaza. Through labored gasps, Han struggles to speak amongst his own laughter. As their laughter dies down, Han forces it out.

"That'd be- That'd be one ugly mountain!" Han gasps out, and they're laughing again. But soon enough, Han's laughter becomes choked and he cries. Cries because the matron isn't there and even with a Tsuchikage like theirs right next to him, the matron wasn't coming back. Onoki stays silent, allowing Han's sobs to die off before Han speaks again. "I-I'm sorry, Tsuchikage-sama, I- I'm usually not (hick) like this."

"You're what people call focused, yeah? The type who directs all their intensity to whatever they're doing. Not because of some strange philosophy, but just because you've been doing that all your life, I'm guessing. But the man who killed the matron is dead, but now you've got nowhere to go, no direction, no goal. She's dead, and you're left behind." He spoke quietly, but the underlying steel in his voice brooked no argument. Han listened and knew he wasn't guessing or anything of the like. "Boy, despite my less than pleasing face, do you know why we don't have the faces of the Tsuchikages on a mountain?" Han shook his head soundlessly. Onoki let out a 'harumph' and got up. As he walked towards the stone monument, he looked back at Han and motioned for him to follow. Han jumped up and ran, albeit a little clumsily, towards Onoki's back. When Onoki stopped, he was right next to the pedestal.

"Now, jump up and grab that stone." With his surprise gone, Han's normal intensity took the reins and he did so without hesitation. Onoki grunted again. "Good. Now, think of this stone as the Tsuchikage, if you want to. You get why it was on the pedestal?" Han nodded. The strongest stone gets a position of respect. It makes sense. "Even better. Now throw it into the pool." Onoki grunted. Han did so immediately, and as the ripple and plop of the stone settled, he turned to look back at the Tsuchikage with a questioning gaze. "Now pick up a stone from the pool, a different one mind you, and place it on the pedestal." Han did as instructed and looked back at the monument. It looked exactly like it had before the change. "So, do you understand boy?" Onoki grumbled, looking a bit proud of himself. Han looked even more carefully at the monument.

"Our Tsuchikage is average and can be replaced at any time with any average shinobi?" Han asked dubiously. The man shouldn't be that smug if that was the lesson. Onoki flustered and looked outraged for a second, before looking at the jinchuuriki angrily. Han could have sworn he heard a snicker from one of the rooftops.

"No! Don't you see the symbolism, boy?!" Onoki yelled angrily. Han thought quickly. Eventually he decided on what seemed to be the other orphan's favorite excuse.

"I'm six." He stated bluntly. This time, he knew he heard a sniggering from the roof. Onoki, on the other hand, gave a long suffering sigh, and then looked at him with a somber expression.

"It's what's called the Will of Stone. Each one of these stones is as strong as the other. The stone on the pedestal is insignificant, only the fact that all of these stones are strong matters." Onoki told him with a serious light in his eyes. Han absorbed this for a second.

"So we should all train a lot and be strong?" Han asked. Onoki gave a brief smile and shook his head.

"Well, all shinobi should try to become stronger. But the strength I'm speaking of is a strong will. This matron of yours, for example, did she have a strong will? Strong conviction?" Onoki spoke passionately for one of the first times this evening. Han thought for a bit again.

"When I found her, she told me to take the baby instead of her." Han said quietly. Onoki nodded in what was likely approval.

"In that case, she was Iwa. She had the Will of Stone on her. The willpower to overcome tragedy and pain for others and her village alike. She was someone this village will be less without." Onoki said gruffly. Then bowed his head towards the monument, as if in prayer. After a second, Han mimicked the gesture. As they rose, something came to Han.

"What about the man who killed her? The one who burned down the orphanage?" Han asked quietly. Onoki considers this for a second. Then he shakes his head roughly and loudly declares, "He's not Iwa."

"Your matron was actually an immigrant. Came from one of the outer villages, a civilian one, not a Hidden Village." At Han's surprised stare, he nodded along. "Oh yes. She was just a poor girl who started working in the orphanage. Then as time went on, she became more and more competent as those above her retired or died off, and soon enough she was matron. The rich man who killed her was born in Iwa, raised in Iwa, and has now died in Iwa. He was a fool running up gambling debts, and choosing a day when all the children were gone to burn it down, rake in insurance money and pay it off. Did his job well too. The investigators tell me they would have thought that it was an accidental oven fire had you not killed the man with the gasoline in his hands. Now, do you know why that man was not Iwa, but you're immigrant matron was?" Onoki mused. Han thought and quickly shook his head. Onoki sighed again. "Honestly, I have to explain everything to you. She possessed the Will of Stone. The man was a coward." Onoki fixed the six year old with a stern glance. "Do you understand what makes the difference?" Sitting down on that island, with crossed legs, Han nodded. The matron was someone important to the village. Not because she was rich, or born there, or anything. But she had conviction, determination, will power. "Oi." Onoki said to the child. "You see that stone? The one you placed there?" Han nodded again. "That's your matron. Because today, she did Iwa proud." And Onoki let the boy cry, quietly this time, in the memory of a woman who gave all she could give.

"Now, let's get on with the explaining shit, so I can rest these old bones of mine." Onoki grumbled. "Explain how you felt when you killed the man." He ordered. Han looked at his bloody hands again before speaking.

"It felt like my blood was boiling. Like being burnt alive from inside out." He spoke quietly. Onoki nodded in contemplation.

"That's more apt than you would think. You see, that was the Gobi boiling your chakra." At Han's wide eyed gaze Onoki gave one more bone shaking sigh. "Do you even know what chakra is, brat?" At the shake of Han's head, Onoki groaned aloud. "This is going to take forever, dammit…" After a good ten minutes was spent explaining the physical/spiritual energy mix, Onoki got around to explaining the biju. "So, the biju are giant, beast-like collections of chakra. So much chakra, that they gained a mind of their own and go around destroying things. To combat that, we decided to seal them, since killing them, which is nearly impossible, only resurrects them eventually, but there were no objects capable of holding it. Tell me brat, if you've been listening at all, what is something that is used to having and distributing chakra that can have something sealed in it?" Han thought on this.

"Well, the only thing I can think of would be… a person? I don't think anything else could use chakra like that." Han quietly surmised. Onoki grinned a bit, happy to not be explaining for once.

"Exactly, brat. The only problem is, it causes a chakra overload when you put it into an adult. The couls are developed and inflexible by then. So the best time to put a biju in a person would be…" Onoki trailed off, clearly expecting an answer.

"Ah, when you're low on chakra?"

"No, you idiot! As a kid, when the coils are still growing!" Onoki griped.

"I'm six…" Han skulked to himself. Onoki grumbled again, covering his eyes with a weary palm. Finally, he seemed to decide on an action and shook his hand, as if to shoo away that particular section of their conversation.

"You know what? Never mind. Have you connected the dots yet? You have a mysterious power, the only way to seal a biju is into a newborn brat, you happen to be a brat, I'm actually telling you all this top secret shit that I have absolutely no reason to tell you unless…" Onoki trailed off again, looking like he was already explaining the painfully obvious. And it did seem painful. To Onoki anyway. Han opened his mouth, probably for a stupid, little kid answer, when the real one came to him. At that point, his mouth froze, then stretched open. His eyes widened, and seemed to lose their constant intense focus. For a second, without that iron will in his eyes, the child looked so painfully helpless and sad that Onoki couldn't help but put a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

"I-I'm a monster? A giant chakra beast? Is that why all the villagers look down on me like that? Because I'm a monster?!" Han was clearly panicking at this point gripping the edge of his sugegasa with a trembling fright. AS he descended into this spiral of fear, he was brought back to reality by the crushing grip on his shoulder. Turning, he caught site of Onoki's burning gaze. Almost immediately, his fear vanished a little, as he was snapped into place by the sheer authority Onoki's eyes seemed to generate, and he was reminded that this crotchety old jii-san was in fact, the Tsuchikage. The old man's gaze softened again, and he shook his head.

"No, brat. You're not a monster. What you are is powerful. You have a biju locked in you; it's not fused with you. That's what it means to be a jinchuuriki. As time goes on, with some training, you can learn to harness that power. Use it as you wish for what you wish. Not the uncontrollable rampage you went on a little while ago. You understand?" At the ending words, his grip tightened painfully again, daring Han to disagree. Han wasn't one for gambling. He nodded, snapped out of his panic.

"But sir… Why do they look down on me like that, then? I mean, they don't hate me necessarily, but I see how they look at me. Like I'm something… less." Han spoke softly, in a downtrodden tone and stance. Onoki snorted and shook his head.

"Unlike other places, we haven't had a biju attack in a long time. So nobody has family or friends that the Gobi, the one in you, has killed or hurt. But like other places, people don't seem to differentiate between the prisoner and the prison itself. So they treat you like a powerless Gobi. Not how I'd like my village to act to potential military resources, mind you. But hey, people are stupid. People in groups just get dumber the more you add." Onoki wisecracked. Han stayed silent. With his thinking at an end, Han raises his head to ask one more question.

"How does that follow the Will of Stone? To treat fellow Iwa like less?" Han asked, his intensity burning with a different kind of focus now, one of anger and pain. Onoki looked back at him and sagged a bit where he sat.

"Heh. You ask tough questions for a brat. Well, it doesn't. Not really. But what you have here is a population. The Will of Stone is more of a goal than it is a requirement. Besides, Iwa is less than it was. So Han, do me a favor, eh?" Onoki smiled a bit at the end. Han just looked on curiously. "Help Iwa out, will you? You have a great power, and it could bring Iwa to greatness. But Iwa has a lot of enemies in a lot of places. And a few in our hearts too. So raise Iwa up a bit, eh? Not the Iwa the rich man lived in. I'm talking about the Iwa your matron lived in. Can you do that for me?" Onoki asked quietly. Han thought for a second, then shook his head.

"I'm… sorry Tsuchikage-sama. But I've seen a lot more rich men than matrons in this village. But… I'll definitely carry on your words. And someday, if I find more people like the matron… Iwa can count on me then." Hand spoke again. His voice carried the will it had originally, the steel that rang through his words like an unbreakable edict. Onoki studied him a bit before shrugging in resignation.

"From a brat like you, that's the best I'll get I think. Besides…" Onoki nodded at the new stone on the pedestal. "I think there are others who you want to give your attention to more than an old man like me." He said quietly, before standing slowly and walking away. If there was anything Onoki understood, it was the need to mourn an important person. That was a wound he knew well.

Han didn't move from the island on the monument until dawn threatened to break in Iwa. AS he stood up, he looked at the stone sitting on the pedestal, the one Tsuchikage-sama had said was a tribute to the matron. Sobbing quietly, Han intoned "You deserve a mountain more than this stupid Hokages ever did." And as he walked away, he hesitated, before adding, a tenuous "Thank you." And walking to where all the other orphans were waking… And if any orphans or early risers or orphanage workers mentioned the tear tracks and bloodshot eyes he carried, not a word was spoken of it. Han was glad for that at least. Because Han was done crying. He recalled how weak and helpless he felt, trying to carry the matron, learning he was a biju container.

So he resolved himself. His track was set, his destination decided. He would be strong in body, so he could always protect people like the matron, and punish people like the rich man. And he would be strong in heart too, so he could always move forward with life. He would be the strongest thing he knew, an Iwa shinobi. He was Han, orphan, jinchuuriki of the Gobi, and he possessed the Will of Stone.

**AN: I know, the entire thing was one interaction and kind of dialogue heavy. But it's necessary. These are all rather big leaps for Han, after all. Anyway, Read and Review! Or follow. Or something… Hey man, I take what I can get! See ya next time!**


	3. Han and the Wisdom of Preparation

Misaka Aiko

Han didn't like her tombstone. It was too small, there weren't enough words on it, and that name seemed wrong. She had never been Misaka to him or the other children, not even Aiko to her coworkers and friends. There were a variety of names that fitted her, and we're used for her, ranging from matron-San, Ma'am, Oba-sama, and even kaa-san to the really small kids. To the six year old jinchuuriki, those were applicable to the matron. This... Misaka-San was not his matron. Not the woman who had a stone on the pedestal dedicated to her. But it was still the closest he would get to what he had.

The graveyard itself was actually quite nice compared to her status in life, not that Han knew that yet. A wrought iron gate stood like a sentry over the small plot of land. There were a few weeds here and there, but Han dutifully pulled those that dared approach matron-san's grave. Other than that, Han liked the look of the cemetery. It had a lot of beautiful flowers and plants. Not like those solemn stone tombs the clans have. This sort of, garden, was the place most suited to matron-san. Even if they screwed up the headstone. Han's brow furrowed in annoyance at this.

"Hello matron-San. I, thought I should see you again. Let you know that the orphans are well. Well. The other orphans, you know? Ah... The baby we got out of the fire is well. He's very noisy, but he's definitely well. My ears can attest to that... You know the Tsuchikage's assistant came by? That's what he called himself anyway. I think it means a sort of helper? Like Aria was to you? Ah, well he offered to tell me about my parents, since the Gobi thing isn't a secret anymore. He thought I might like to know, and they're dead anyway, so they shouldn't care. But I told him I don't need parents. Cause I have you. Or, I... had you, I guess. But that's enough for me, you know! Also, I've decided something. I'm going to be a shinobi. That way, I can help people who have the will of stone, and punish people who hurt others. Like the rich man. I punished him... But it cost too much! I couldn't... Couldn't help you. So I'll be stronger. That way I can save good people and punish bad guys. I'll... I'll set everything right. Make Iwa a place you could have loved to live in." Han finally finished his speech. Tears threatened to spill, but he blinked them away. He had made his peace now. He had talked to matron-san, and decided on a course of action. There wouldn't be any more tears from him, just strength.

As he walked away from the grave site, Han stopped to consider his path. He decided to be a shinobi, but how do you become a shinobi? Well, he always did like the straight forward approach. Why not just ask a shinobi? And that's exactly what he did. A Chunnin village guard was the first he approached. Looking up from under his frayed sugegasa, Han leveled him with an iron hard stare, while pulling on his sleeve. The guard jumped a bit, then looked down at Han with a sneer, but there was definitely some unease behind it.

"What is it, ya brat?" The guard spat out, suddenly looking to be anywhere but there. Han narrowed his eyes a little, but forget on nonetheless.

"How do I become a shinobi?" For a moment, the guard seemed speechless. After a good amount of sputtering however, he seemed to decide on a proper response.

"As if a little Go- I mean, orphan shit like you could be any sort of shinobi! Scram, street rat!" The man was loud, but anyone who listened closely would hear the nervous tremor. As it was, the guard was terrified that the crazy powerful stare being leveled at him meant that he was soon to be beaten to a pulp by a crazed jinchuuriki. But, Han simply let go of his sleeve and continued his slow walk down the street. While the guard breathed a sigh of relief, Han was thinking as furiously as his age would allow him. 'If he has been undermining the strength of other stones, that weakens Iwa overall. People like him must be what the Tsuchikage meant. He's a bad guy I'll have to punish someday.'

Satisfied with his conclusion, Han resolved to go find a good person to ask this question to. Somebody had to follow the Will of Stone around here, after all. But who? Then he realized. ANBU are the best ninja. If they're the best ninja in Iwa, they help Iwa overall! If they do that, they must follow the Will of Stone! Delighted with his new lead, Han thought back to the night weeks ago, in the plaza. The Tsuchikage had said that they wouldn't let people walk around covered in blood, but he could' think of anyone he would be ok with killing for something like that. Wait, he also said they were on the rooftops! So if he hung out on a busy roof, He could probably see one at least! Twenty minutes and a lot of close calls later, Han wriggled his way onto a nearby roof. And then, he waited.

Luckily for Han, there was always an ANBU tail on any resident jinchuuriki who are deemed unable to protect themselves. So while ANBU weren't exactly leaping around rooftops for their grocery shopping, there was an operative who happened to notice the Gobi container clumsily grappling his way onto the roof of a random general store, then sit in a corner as if he was preparing an ambush. A very shoddy and impromptu ambush, but an ambush all the same. Since this is considered suspicious behavior, or at least outside the norm, the tail, unfortunately named ANBU Skunk, immediately reported it. And when a non-crisis jinchuuriki incident occurs in Iwa, there's only one twenty something ANBU agent recommended to handle it.

It's thanks it this chain of suspicion and hierarchy that ANBU Baboon came to be standing next to the still as stone, six year old Han. For his part, Han was intently watching the same piece of roof as he had been for the last hour. There was something to be said for the kid's focus, Baboon thought humorously to himself.

"What exactly are you waiting for?" Baboon broke the silence gruffly. Han didn't react a bit. Shrugging to himself, Han quietly explained.

"I need an ANBU. ANBU are on roofs. I'm on a roof. Logic implies if I stand on enough roofs, or on a roof for long enough, I'll find an ANBU. Please be quiet. If an ANBU hears you, they may choose a different rooftop." Han paused, as if in thought. "Or they'll come to investigate. Either way, I suppose it doesn't matter. Go about your business please." Han finished, never taking his eyes off the spot unless blinking. Baboon on the other hand, arched an eyebrow in surprise. The kid had been a lot less forceful when talking to the Tsuchikage, even before he was aware of the man's authority. Unbeknownst to the ANBU agent, Han had a very goal driven mindset. That night he had been lost and confused, unaware of where North and South were, much less what he should do. Now that he had a goal, he also had the self assured nature of gravity itself.

"Yeah, well… I'm ANBU, so I suppose you're in luck, huh kid?" Baboon grinned. As soon as he heard this, Han stiffened and spun on his feet with the enthusiasm only generated by small children and certifiable energy freaks.

Somewhere, miles away, a man in green spandex sneezed on his 356th lap around Konoha.

"Good. In that case, answer my question. Please." The basic social grace was tacked on as an afterthought, but it was there. Baboon shrugged mentally. It would have to do. With an impatient wave of the hand, he motioned for the kid to spit it out. "How do I become a shinobi?" Out of all the questions Han considered, that had not been one. He bunked in surprise behind his mask.

"You join the ninja academy at eight. Did nobody tell you that?" Baboon asked in understandable confusion. Han shook his head to the side. Then he stopped to consider this new information. As Baboon made to get up and leave, Han stopped him with a vice like (for a six year old) grip on his bicep.

"But what do I do until then? I'm not going to sit around for two years. There has to be a way to get better now!" Han's intense glare bore into the ANBU. The ANBU, having stared down people who were in fact taller than four feet, was unimpressed. Scratching the back of his head, Baboon shrugged physically this time.

"I don't know what to tell you. There's a reason you enter at eight. Your stamina is shit otherwise. I guess you'd have to study a lot. If you can have the bookwork done when you get in, you could focus on the more practical stuff later. Oh, and chakra control is something you can do. Even if you are a jinchuuriki, it's still useful to practice chakra use." The ANBU nodded, satisfied with his answers to the strange boy's questions. The child gave him an appraising stare, then nodded to himself. As the child ran away to, as it seemed to the ANBU, jump off the roof, Baboon sped forward. Picking Han up from the back, he jumped to street level and dumped the kid, somewhat gently, on the dirt packed road. "Kid, please leave the roof jumping to us." The ANBU groaned out. Han shrugged, sat up and began walking away without a word. Baboon stopped and stared as the little kid blatantly ignoring the elite ninja he had just left standing awkwardly in a semi busy street. 'This kid...' Baboon thought to himself 'is so awkwardly rude, it hurts.' But with the other ANBU gone, it automatically fell onto the ANBU most convenient to take over. AKA him. So he still had to trail the kid anyway.

Han meanwhile, had given up on the ANBU as a source of information. His goal had been located, and phase two was already in the making. So far, all he really had was 'read'. But, he reasoned, that's as good a place to start as any. With these thoughts in mind, Han walked quickly through the streets, heading straight for the public library. At one point in his haste, he walked into a construction site purely to get there faster. Squeezing past workers and materials alike, he ignored the shouts of the chasing foreman, as well as the irritated attitudes of all the workers he had bumped into or distracted, before jumping onto a box, then a barrel, and finally over the fence. After a rather unpleasant landing with his butt, Han stood up to find himself facing a large, well kept building that almost emanated boring. Any other six year old may have wept at the idea of spending any extended amount of time in it. Han was not any other six year old. Rather than weep, Han surged forward, pushing past the double glass doors. Technically, he was six. He had a year and a half before they started teaching him much less test him. But still, he wanted to know if it was possible. If, through his own work now, he could become a better shinobi, before he was really required to learn. The idea of contributing to his goal was awe inspiring for Han, something within both his control and his ability to do. As a result, he was a little disappointed when he came across a sleeping old man at the reception desk.

"Jii-san." Han quietly intoned. The old man kept snoring. "Jii-san!" Han raised his volume more, wishing the old man would wake up already. "JII-SAN!" Han barked out from his low level below the desk. The man stopped snoring, and blinked slowly. Picking up a pair of round glasses from his desk delicately, he perched them on his nose and looked down at the silently fuming child. Leaning over the desk, he raised an eyebrow, and lightly slapped the top of Han's hat.

"Take that off in here, boy! We're in a building, show some respect." Now, what do you need? Because I was taking a nap there, and you interrupted me. It'd better be real important." Suddenly, the old man's eyes narrowed and he leaned forward. "Why are you here, actually? It's lunch time. No one comes in at lunch. Believe me, I know." Han took off his hat, revealing a short cropped head of hair. The boy's eyes narrowed right back. "I need to learn." He stated. The old man narrowed his eyes for a second longer, then scoffed and returned to his normal slouch.

"Well now, if that isn't vague as all hell. What is it exactly that you want to learn, boy? Super cool jutsu? How to get a lot of cash? Where daddy went when he said he was going out for a smoke?" The old man guffawed at the last one. Han got the feeling the man in front of him was not a proper role model. Han shook his head nevertheless. "None of that. I want to learn everything."

The old man stopped chuckling to himself at that, giving him a critical eye. Finally, he sighed and said, "Well, that's a new request. Besides, I don't exactly have an "everything" pamphlet lying around." The old ma grunted. Han shrugged off the doubtful tone.

"Right now I know nothing. Therefore, it makes sense for me to try to learn everything." Han reasoned. The archivist before him shrugged in agreement, and then traced a hand over some of his scraggly stubble. Suddenly, something occurred to him, and he dragged a suspicious glance toward the child. "Hold up now. You know nothing? Do you even know how to read?" the old man asked, rightfully doubtful of his prospective "protégé's" abilities. Han shrugged again. "That just means I need to learn how to read." Han retorted. The old man chuckled and raised the doubtful eyebrow again, but there was amusement in his voice this time. "Oh? I have a feeling that you have a black and white take on things then? Either you do something or you don't?" The archivist questioned. Han nodded solemnly.

"Indeed. All things can be accomplished with the appropriate amount of effort." Han stated resolutely. "So you can defeat the Tsuchikage?" The old man asked with another chuckle. "Indeed. I will simply learn and train until I am stronger than him, or he dies. If he dies before I become stronger than him, I have outlived him."

"But you weren't the one to defeat him."

"He is dead, I am alive. I win."

"By that logic, you could just sit in ignorance until the Tsuchikage is dead, and you'll have won."

"My goal is not to defeat the Tsuchikage. It is to become stronger than him."

"Why?"

"I can help good people and hurt bad people if I am strong."

"What, to you, makes a good person and a bad person?"

"Good people do good things and bad people do bad things." At this, the old man cackled behind his desk.

"Ohohoho! You have more than just facts to learn then, boy." Then he frowned, seemed to mull it over, and decided. "Fine. But I'm a busy man. So here's a deal, huh? If you can prove that you have the guts to do this, I'll teach you anything you want to know."

Han nodded along immediately. "I will partake in any challenge." The old man cracked a grin at that. "You know the alphabet, don't you boy?" Han nodded again. "Good then. Teach yourself to read, and I'll teach you anything you want to know." Han quirked his head at that, looking in silent confusion. "You can use any book on the bottom floor. That's the common clearance stuff. Ask people for help, word definitions, whatever. But you have to teach yourself."

"Why this challenge?" Han asked, still confused. The old man just shrugged again. "I don't know. You seem to believe straightforward power and effort is the solution to problems. If so, justify it. Show me that your effort means something, and not just to yourself. Understand?" Han just shrugged.

"I don't get all the stuff you blab about, jii-san. But I get it. Learn to read, and I get taught. Sounds good." And witht hose parting words, Han walked down into the depths of the bookshelves, vanishing mysteriously into the darkness shading the paper stacks. And then there were a few thumps, a cry of pain, and a stack of books fell into view. Han reemerged, rubbing his head in pain. "Ah… jii-san? Where are the kid books?"

**AN: To begin with, sorry for the long wait, a lot of stuff happened. Also known as, I learned TvTropes had a recommendation page. I have done so little work… This chapter pained me. Many unit tests later, my futile attempts to make this chapter longer, and this 3,000 word chapter is the approximate result. To be blunt, I hate writing exposition. I constantly fear my characters being OC or that I'm using too many OCs. But aside from these common writing insecurities, my ANBU member is not OC. The codename should be a pretty obvious giveaway. Also, he's the one qualified to deal with Gobi situations. Do with that what you will, guess if you want. Ciao, have good fun, etc. Thank ya. **

**On a side note: Much thanks to my first reviewer, Storming Ice, and my apologies for not being able to acknowledge your request for timeliness. Read and Review, and see you next time!**


	4. Han and the Gift of Knowledge

**AN: So, only a few days behind this time. I'm getting closer! Regardless, here's your dose of Han for this week. And I do believe the next chapter will be the last one before the academy. So we all have something to look forward to! **

Han tipped his head back and quietly deliberated. Was this the best course of action? Would it solve his troubles? No, he decided, but it would help. Swinging his head forward, Han's forehead made a whacking sound as it slammed into the wall. As a throbbing emerged in the back of his head, Han relished in the feeling of not thinking for a while longer. His brief reprieve from the cruel mistress known as non-fiction was interrupted by a sharp retort from the front of the building.

"Kid! What the hell are you doing back there?! You better not have messed anything up, or I'll skin you alive!" Han shook away his dizziness, and decided he needed to change something up. He knew this was taking forever, because the old man was starting to reuse death threats and/or insults. Then again, shout them every day for a few months, and you'll undoubtedly run out of space in that creaky old head of his. Han's spiteful thoughts were cut short as his feet nudged against the book he had dropped. Technically it was for kids, but complete incomprehension had made even the stoic Han bang his head into a wall.

Okay, he decided. If I'm going to do this, I'm going to do something different. Because slogging through it without even a basic understanding was grating on his nerves. Not that he had made no progress. With the basic knowledge of the alphabet nearly memorized, a lot of the words were just a matter of sounding things out and comparing them to his spoken language. But, Han was not a walking dictionary, and still ended up scratching his head at complex or strangely pronounced wording, or basic sentence structure. Since he couldn't read all this, Han decided, I'm just not learning the right things. Which means, I need to read more things, Han nodded to himself, a new goal in mind.

"Oi, brat, where are you going? You giving up already?" The old man cackled from his desk. Han furiously shook his head as he pushed out of the door.

"No way, jii-san! I'm going to go learn more things. Like Seentance struktoor or long words. I'll see you again!" Han shouted as he strode out, pulling his sugegasa back over his head. Meanwhile, the old man looked dumbstruck at his desk, then shook his head and sighed to himself. "At this rate, that kid will be drinking age and come back here to prove he can pronounce things correctly."

Han meanwhile, had snuck into the local bookshop (the owner was not a courteous man, and would have to be punished by the Will of Stone at a later date), and was dug in at the children's learning section. Iwa as one of the largest military powers, had a lot of cash in their coffers, so the economy did well. As such, Han was presented with an entire veritable wall of "teach your child to read" manuals. Looking them over, Han decided to just read them all.

It was a few months and a few unsuccessful loitering charges later, that Han emerged at the Iwa Public Archives (which he now knew the name of, because he read the sign) with a proud aura and self-satisfied, quiet smile about him. Jumping onto a chair before the reception desk, Han whacked his hands against the smooth wooden desk in triumph. In the process, it also woke the old archivist, who had been in the middle of a fitful nap. Shooting up, the old man was halfway to skewering Han with a kunai that had appeared in his hands before recognizing the perpetrator. He also didn't move the kunai from where it was held above the small jinchuuriki's head. Han, blissfully uncaring of the hovering death above him, simply continued to smile in his victory. "I did it, jii-san!" Pointing t the sign above the two, Han quickly recited "Public Reception".

The old man crooked an eyebrow, lowered the kunai, then handed Han the newspaper he had been drooling on, and told him to read a few of the articles. As he did so, the old man sighed, put away the kunai, and took the newspaper from him mid-word. Ignoring Han's confusion, the old man threw the newspaper over his shoulder and extended his hands in a 'come at me' type of motion. "So, what do you want to know, brat?"

"Everything." Han's answer was immediate. The old man rolled his eyes in irritation. "Fine, kid, but you asked. When a mommy and a daddy love each other very much…" Han broke in rather quickly. "What does this have to do with being a ninja?" As soon as he said it, a cane emerged from behind the desk, gripped in the old man's hand, and smacked Han on the head.

"If you wanted to know how to be a ninja, you should have asked how to be a ninja! Do you know how goddamn vague 'everything' is? Cause it is really goddamn vague!" The old man yelled at the child, then sat down and grouched some more. "What did your parents tell you about stupid questions? Because asking me to teach you everything is a pretty damn stupid one. Han shrugged.

"My parents are dead, but Aria-san says there are no stupid questions." Han answers. The old man snorted, then shook his hand at the child. "Well, Aria-san is an ideal ditz. There are plenty of stupid questions, as well as stupid people who ask them. While you're learning anything from me, whether it be killing skills or the birds and the bees, you will NOT be a stupid person. Is that clear?" Han nodded in affirmation. "Great. Now, if you're gonna be a ninja, we have to establish the basic three first. But, wait, you know what chakra is, correct?" Han gave a maybe sign with his hand. The old man's attitude seemed to dissipate, as he vanished into an authoritative lecture. Han whipped out a notebook he was keeping in his ragged kimono.

"Basically, chakra is a mix of physical and spiritual energies. This means that it comes from the body and the mind. The physical energy is manifested by the little pieces of your body called cells, and the spiritual energy comes from mind power, so you can increase that through things like studying or meditation. Medics, for example, have to study a lot to both bring your medical knowledge to the point where it both allows them to know the human body, but as a side effect, their chakra is more spiritual than physical making it green. That also allows them to heal instead of hurt. You get all of that?" Han finished scribbling and nodded. While he had understood it all, he was unable to properly take any notes on it. His writing had a ways to go. Impatient, the old man snatched the notepad from him, and scribbled out the important parts, then handed it back.

"Anyway, ninja exist by using this energy to fight. Basically they focus it, and turn it into something, shape it a certain way, or otherwise mold it. That is chakra manipulation. How capable you are of this is called chakra control. You can have zero skill at chakra control and still perform the jutsu, but it will either fail, or consume so much chakra that you'd be more efficient with spitballs. You get that this time?" Without waiting for an answer, the old man snatched the notepad and filled it out again.

"These skills can be divided into three main sections. The first is ninjutsu, which is focused on how you utilize chakra, and how you manipulate it. These can do almost anything, from shoot lightning, summon water, cut with wind, blow things up with fire and Iwa's favorite, control the earth. But it can also make clones, control people's bodies, make explosive clay… There are a thousand and one things you can do with ninjutsu, and another thousand we haven't discovered how to do yet, and then probably another thousand people just haven't thought of."

"Second is genjutsu, which is basically illusions. The reason illusions alone get their own section, is because rather than attacking externally, genjutsu inserts your own chakra into the system of an enemy, usually using the chakra pathways in the brain. Then they hallucinate, or sleep or whatever else the user wants to happen. Be cautious with them, boy. Anyone who uses genjutsu as a staple of their style is good enough at them to not get killed. They're a slippery bunch, making it hard to trust yourself."

"But now, we get to the good stuff. Taijutsu, I think, is what you'll really excel at in the ninja world. To start, you're a freakish level of height for someone not even in the academy yet. And you seem to have a solid type of frame, which means you'll have a good build going when you grow up. But what'll benefit you the most, though, is that the crux of taijutsu is effort. Even if you have some great natural talent with close combat, you still have to put in a great amount of effort to claim to be a master at taijutsu. So even if you're weak, or small, or just have no form, train, train and train, and you can be strong. With nothing but the body you formed yourself, social status, chakra capacity, study abilities, none of that is vital. Only the effort you put into it!" The old man stopped and took a breath. "But, that's just the opinion of an old retiree. If you asked the opinion of a ninjutsu or genjutsu master, I'm willing to bet they'd claim theirs as the best, and give damn good reasons for that. Hey… kid, you alright?"

Han had dropped his pen at some point during the taijutsu rant, and was looking at the old man with wide eyes. "Jii-san… I want to learn taijutsu." Han muttered in awe. The old man blinked, and then cackled loudly. "Well of course you do! It is the best ninja art after all! Ah, never mind. First, you need background information. Follow me." Shaking himself out of his stupor, Han rose to follow the old man. It was then that Han got a good look at his teacher, who had always been dwarfed by the round oak desk. Although he stood tall, with his back straight, he was too thin to be healthy, and relied heavily on the can his left hand clutched at. In fact, he seemed to be almost dragging his left foot. In terms of the man's face, it was nothing but sharp lines, with a hawkish nose, and little to no hair on the sides of his head, all of which was an ancient silver. Despite his age the wrinkles in his face looked more like scars than they did signs of age, as if the bad humored man was looking a fight with life itself. As they moved past the civilian section and approached the academy section, the old man looked behind him and narrowed suspicious eyes.

"I'm making an exception for you, and giving you academy resources. Do not damage them, always return them, and memorize them dammit. Even if my job is more than secure, they might dock my pay for a bit, and that'd be a hell of a nuisance. Got it, brat?" Han nodded frantically. After the amount of effort he put in to gain the old man's confidence, he wouldn't risk it simply through carelessness. The academy section was simply a door with a 'Authorized persons only' sign on it. It was, after all, extremely basic knowledge. Practical techniques like henge or bunshin weren't kept in this section, which was all reference material. The restriction itself was more of a cursory gesture than anything. Nevertheless, Han felt like he had just been handed the keys to the kingdom.

As the old man pushed past the door, into a small office sized room, he immediately pulled three textbooks off the shelves lining the room. Setting all three onto a nearby table, he laid a hand firmly on top of them. "This is what you need to know. There're details on other nations, mathematics, science. This is every bit of practical knowledge assessments that you'll probably be tested on. Get cracking." Han nodded resolutely, and then jumped onto a chair to properly look over the table. Pulling a textbook in front of him, Han lasted five minutes in the math section before subtly poking the old man in the arm. Never losing the resolution in his eyes, Han simply pointed at the multiplication tables with an overall aura of confusion.

"Ha! Asking for my help then? Lasted a good long while did ya?" The old man cracks a grin as he speaks, obviously amused at his supposed protégé's inability to figure out math. Han simply shakes his head in reply though.

"No, not at all. I asked nothing of you. You seem to be hallucinating events of your own accord. Are you sure you wouldn't like to sit down? Maybe do some basic math to center yourself. I bet explaining it out loud would also help your focus. It's alright, jii-san, it's your age getting ahead of you." Han explained with patience too considerate to be honest, at least in the old archivist's opinion. Cuffing him over the back of his shaved head, the old man simply cracked a grin.

"Bah. Learn to accept some help, ya little brat. If effort gets you everywhere, then doesn't the effort of a lot of people get you farther?" Han blinked at this and seemed to consider it. Finally, he shrugged noncommittally.

"I suppose. But nobody ever really wanted to put effort into the same goal as I do. No one wants to be stronger than the tsuchikage, despite how strong he is." The old man chuckled. "I think, kid, that they're more intimidated by the idea of becoming that strong. Kind of like if I asked you to walk on air all the way to the moon." Han furrowed his brow in confusion. "But I can't say that's impossible. Maybe there is someone who can walk all the way to the moon. And the Tsuchikage is even easier. He's human, and he became that strong, so it's possible to be stronger than him." The old man shrugged. "Well, kid, you're a weird one. A lot of people idolize our glorious leader. Why don't you, by the way?"

"I met him."

"Ah. That'll do it."

"You've met him, jii-san?"

"Sure. I used to be a jounin. They wouldn't allow me to work the archives if I didn't have a solid background. They keep a lot of sensitive records below the building, and some pretty powerful techniques upstairs. Moving on, multiplication works like this." Once Han had that bit of math down, the old man retreated back to his desk, leaving Han to his studies.

As the sun began to set, Han emerged from his makeshift office with a haggard look about him. His normally intense gaze wilted far more than it focused, and his feet made an exhausting shuffle across the carpeted floor. As the boy was prepared to leave, the old man called out to him.

Feel free to come around tomorrow. After all, I doubt a day with some textbooks is going to guarantee you the genin exam, huh brat?" The old man grinned at him from his perch. Han nodded wearily then stopped. "Jii-san?" He called out. As the man turned his gaze back to him, Han quickly continued. "What's your name?" He asked of the generous, if cranky, archivist. With a surprised look on his face, the old man answered.

"Iwada Shin. What about you brat? You got a name on ya?" Han returned with a shrug.

"My name's Han." He answered quickly, even as he walked out the door. Behind him, the old man froze, then let his face relax into a slow, crooked grin.

"Huh. Not every day we get a jinchuriki in our doors. And I taught one multiplication. Small world indeed." As Iwada Shin, ex-jounin of Iwa, and current public archivist packed up to return to his room on the second floor, he gave a respectful nod towards the door Han had left out of. "I wish ya luck, kid. You're probably going to need it."

**AN: Huh. Well, here's another Iwa grumpy old man with a heart of gold. I just can't help but feel that there would be a lot of these guys hanging about. Is that just me? Ah well. Next chap will likely just be the year until Academy initiation. A few new faces, and Han gets out more. Good fun, see ya next time, read and review!**


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